


Black & White turns real

by stilinskisoul



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Artist Stiles, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, M/M, mentions of Christmas actually, winter holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisoul/pseuds/stilinskisoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles loves to draw whatever that catches his interest. Derek is interesting enough to draw. But he finds his portrait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black & White turns real

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Stiles has always loved to draw.

He just never shared this fact with anyone, not even with Scott. This secret was shared with his Dad and Mom only, and no one else. He has this habit of drawing anything he comes across and finds beautiful, no matter the reason. If it's stunning, or interestingly awkward, then be it, he sits down and draws it so he can remember it later. Memories are important to him. He figured he can value them more when they are eternalized by his own hands instead of a blink of a camera.

Right now they are on a pack meeting in the living-room of the burnt down Hale house. The members are brainstorming ideas in connection with the current mysterious creature; what could it possibly be and _who_ could be the individual. Stiles has grown to accomplish his ability of tuning out his surroundings and all disturbing noises of his environment, this way being able to concentrate fully on the preparing picture.

Stiles is sitting in a far corner of the room in an old, weary armchair, with a warm knitted sweatshirt on him that is oversized and is at least twice as big as him. He also has a scarf wrapped around his neck and he would be wearing a pair of mittens as well, if those wouldn't prevent him from drawing. His breath is available in the chilly air—the house is no longer provided with electricity, running water nor heating, and through the missing walls the biting cold has a free way inside. He has five layers on him, which includes a T-shirt, a button-up shirt, a hoodie, his windbreaker jacket and the huge knitted pullover. He feels awkward in the numerous layers of clothes, but unlike _other fortunate creatures_ , he can catch a cold.

Since this is their regular meeting place, the room has been decorated with several lighting objects, mostly flashlights, reading lamps and a line of Christmas lamps which gain electricity from a mobilized power supply that Stiles brought here. The Christmas headlights are hung above the armchair in which he always sits. He was resistant to have those tiny lamps above him, because he likes to have his own little corner where he can be more or less isolated.

Apart from him, Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Cora, and, the most important for Stiles, Derek is there. Allison and Lydia are absent because they are preparing for tomorrow's event. They have been planning on spending Christmas together in solitary. It is going to be a private occasion—only the core of the pack is going to be invited, which includes of course Allison, Lydia, Scott, Derek and Stiles.

Although Stiles is glancing up occasionally, he isn't paying attention, apparently, at least not to what is being said. Instead, his attention is drawn to Derek's silhouette, the way his muscles are flexing and releasing under his pale skin, his strong neck, impressive shoulders, the perfect straightness of his nose in his profile, his gorgeous deep, yet light green eyes, those adorable bunny teeth that Stiles loves so much and wouldn't mind to get more familiar with, and last but not in the least, Derek's beautifully formed full lips. Apart from the fact they are _stunning_ , there is also something cunning in them, a feeling that drains Stiles of his common sense and draws him in if he does as much as simply _glancing_ at them.

And that is the part on Derek's portrait that he just can't get right, ironically.

It is frustrating him, and he erases the lines from the paper those form a hideous mouth for Derek's black and white face. He carefully wipes the tiny slivers of his rubber, then softly blows on the paper a few times to make sure he got rid of all of the remainders before continuing to draw, making another attempt to catch the form of Derek's velvet-looking lips perfectly.

“Stiles, you done studying?” comes Scott's voice. It takes Stiles a handful of seconds to transit from his daydreaming state to his conscious self. He shakes his head with little, quick movements, his eyes blinking afterwards.

“What?” he glances down at the portrait. “Oh, the studying. Yeah, sure, totally, dude. I'm done. So done,” he nods, flailing his right hand around in the air that has the pencil in it. According to what Stiles told the others, the rest of the pack thinks that whenever they are at a pack meeting, Stiles is either studying or reading a book. Well, he's indeed studying—studying _Derek_ ; his habits, shape, rich voice, body, behavior. Basically his _everything_.

“Let's go, then,” Scott announces. Stiles has to agree—he's still freezing badly, and somehow the thought of taking a hot bath is more addicting to him than staying to stare at Derek helplessly. He has no chance to get the werewolf, anyway, so why should he be drooling all over each of his movements, then?

His fingers are numb and he's hardly able to move them properly, but eventually, he finishes packing up, which also includes shoving his knitted pullover into his backpack after taking it off. He only wears that while he's sitting. When he's moving, his body provides enough warmth for him not to be freezing. The two of them say farewell to the others, then make a beeline to Stiles' Jeep.

Stiles drops Scott out at the McCall house, then drives home. Since it's winter holiday, he doesn't have to study, so he decides to play video games until his Dad arrives, too. He thinks _Tomb Raider – Underworld_ will be perfect to kill the time with.

Two hours later a click can be heard, and it's followed by the sound of the front door opening. There is no better indication to know that his father came home than the man calling for him.

~

“Shit.”

That is the first thing Derek says after he found the thing in the living-room. He honestly had no idea about it until now, but even repeating that thought, _fact_ in his mind, isn't enough for him to calm down. His heart is racing amidst his ribs and his chest suddenly feels tight, his lungs not being able to do their duty properly. He hasn't been this impatient since he came aware of the death of his family and he was on his way to this house to see the remnants, not caring about the possibility of seeing a corpse or two.

Now his next and only chance is going to be at the Christmas party, and knowing that only makes him more eager for Christmas Eve to come. He fiercely wants to see Stiles, and he feels like a pathetic childish nine-year-old, but he can't help it, and can't bring himself to care about it at all.

The abandoned drawing was laying in the armchair in its solitary, covered halfway by the plaid that is always present on the old furniture. Derek noticed it peeking out from under the wool-made material a little while after everyone left. And ever since he recognized Stiles' writing on the other side of the paper, that says ' _to Derek for xmas???_ ', he can't think of anything but the Christmas party where he can see Stiles and he will be able to talk to him, and tell him how much he loves him at last.

Because until now, Derek thought that the slight arousal and interest he constantly smelled on Stiles was dedicated to Lydia, not to him. This drawing, however, proved him wrong. Now he knows clearly that Stiles is no longer in love with the bashee, and also that Stiles has been lying about his method of killing the time while being on the pack meetings.

Not that Derek is complaining.

When the evening comes after an excruciatingly long wait, Derek feels like jumping out of his skin. His stomach makes a few somersaults at the thought of confessing to Stiles and possibly kissing him—at least, normally that follows a love confession. And probably that will happen in their not-so-ordinary case, too. At least Derek hopes so. He enters the Martin family's beach house, where the others are already waiting. Yet, something is wrong.

He can't smell Stiles.

“Is Stiles here yet?” he asks Scott, approaching him. The teenager gives him a surprised look, but answers him anyway.

“No,” he says. “And he won't be. He gave us a call this morning that his Dad's present for him, for _both of them_ , actually, was to go on a holiday. They are spending their time in Europe, and coming back on the last day of the holiday.”

Those words puzzle Derek. What is he to do now? How will he be able to wait until then? His guts twitch and twist in anticipation, and for a few moments he's honestly considering going after them. He wants his Stiles now, right this second. But no. He has to wait. Wait until he comes back to America.

This is going to be an agonizingly long winter holiday.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short story I wrote. :)


End file.
